


lost helmet

by Eleanor_Lambb



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Cleaning, Footjobs, Mutual Attraction, NOT THAT BAD ITS OVER THE CLOTHES, Oral Sex, Other, Pining, captain is a nonbinary gay person, trans phineas welles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleanor_Lambb/pseuds/Eleanor_Lambb
Summary: phineas welles is transgender he told me himselfpart 1 of 2 lol...... thanks for reading :) i love the outer worlds and i like phineasa little about my captain: theyre an older person, a little posh, way too clean. they dont have ocd but theyre very particular about the way they want thingstakes place after stranger united the msi and the iconoclasts
Relationships: The Captain/Phineas Welles
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	lost helmet

**Author's Note:**

> phineas welles is transgender he told me himself
> 
> part 1 of 2 lol...... thanks for reading :) i love the outer worlds and i like phineas
> 
> a little about my captain: theyre an older person, a little posh, way too clean. they dont have ocd but theyre very particular about the way they want things
> 
> takes place after stranger united the msi and the iconoclasts

Phineas Welles paces. Stranger watches with as much interest as they can muster, sitting on the edge of the table across from the glass separating them. Phineas is babbling to himself, passing back and forth in front of the microphone, Stranger only catching pieces of his self - rumination.

"....So to keep.....then four ounces of......with six......carry along....."

Stranger yawns, stretches their shoulders out and rolls their neck. Any other time, they would've been more than attentive to the scientist, but it's been a long day bouncing back and forth in the sulfuric wastes of Monarch, and they were long overdue for a shower and a twelve - hour sleep. They were still in their field armor, and it smelled horribly of guts and sulfur. They feel semi - guilty for stinking up the lab, but there's not much to feel guilt over, as it already stinks of rotting animal carcasses, half dissected and still waiting for tests.

"I'm sorry, friend," Phineas says, stopping in front of his microphone, "I'm sure you're exhausted from your errands today. You're free to return to your ship whenever you see fit."

"Nonsense," Stranger says politely, "I'm in no hurry," They would rather be on the ship, truth be told, but they did enjoy Phineas' company. They liked watching him work, liked engaging in conversation, going over notes and future plans. It was comforting. Phineas' presence eased them. They cannot lie to themselves, Stranger has a somewhat romantic interest in Phineas, but that certainly wouldn't be going anywhere as long as the Board was still a threat to the colony.

Not that they would admit it out loud. Ellie would torture them until the end of time over it.

Phineas gives them a long look, "Are you sure?"

"Of course," They stretch out their arms, muscles throbbing. Pistols were usually their choice, but machine guns and grenade launchers were more effective against Mantisaur armor and the tough hides of Raptidons. Lugging around a hundred - pound gun was Hell. While it was natural for the broad and tall form of Monarch - born Nyoka to be accustomed to carrying them around, Stranger wondered how Felix, as gangly as he was, managed to tote one so easily.

"Are you aching, Captain Hawthorne?"

They cringe, and before they can get a word out, Phineas cuts back in.

"Ah, forgive me, I forget that you hate that, force of habit, my mistake. Let me try again - are you aching, Stranger?"

Stranger shifts. Being under the identity of Captain Alex Hawthorne was only good when they needed to open doors and make connections. It wasn't their name to take, and they were uncomfortable toting around the badge. They appreciated Phineas' understanding of it, "Just a bit sore after today's adventures, is all."

"I have Stimu - Lotion if you need any."

"That's kind of you, Welles, but I don't want you to go through the trouble of - "

"Oh, nonsense. I have cases of the stuff. Just a moment," And he turns, disappears behind a control console.

Stranger sighs through their nose. They hated making Phineas run around more than he had to, he had much more important things to worry about, like the Hope's colonists. They wait a few minutes, watching Bubbles the cystypig trot along the lab. They breathed in recycled air, a hint of rot from the dissected cystypigs and canids. Before they can think too hard about the decay logistics of domesticated animals, Phineas comes back out, an outrageously large case in his hands.

"Here you are."

Stranger hops down from the table, approaching the glass, "I don't think I need a case of it."

Phineas struggles with the box, "Nonsense. I have as much as a commandeered Auntie Cleo supply ship can carry. Let me just - " He goes to hit the button to open the door, but the case slips out of his hands. All of the tubes tumble out, scattering all over the floor.

Stranger places a hand to the glass, "Do you need help, Welles?"

"No, no, it's quite alright, I've got it," And Phineas begins picking up the absolutely hilarious amount of Stimu - Lotion bottles that are scattered all over the floor. 

Stranger sighs through his nose, "C'mon, Welles. Me helping you isn't going to hurt anyone."

He pauses, "I...suppose I could use the assistance. At the very least, I owe you the chance to enter my inner lab."

"I don't think you owe me anything," They say, "I just want to help."

Phineas is quiet. He stands with a soft ' _Oof_ ,' then opens the door to the lab.

Stranger enters the lab, noticing it smelled less like rot, and more like static. Terminal lights blinked, numbers running on screens, tools and scraps everywhere. It was chaos, but an organized chaos Stranger recognized. Parvati kept her quarters and workspace the same way. It might've not been the neatest, but she knew every inch of the place. Still, it drove the normally neat and ordered Stranger to madness.

They bend down, picking up bottles and loading them into the case. After a few minutes, the crate is full, every tube picked up. They stand, holding out a hand for Phineas to take. He takes it, and they haul him up easily.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," They flash a tired grin. Phineas doesn't let their hand go, instead giving it a gentle squeeze, staring into their face. Stranger doesn't understand it, at first, but then they realize; This was the first time since Stranger had awoken that the two had ever been face to face, no barrier between. The inner lab was actually lower than the outer lab, making Phineas a little taller than Stranger had originally estimated. The scientist was at least 5'10, coming up to Stranger's nose, and the glass had warped his frame slightly, as he was slimmer at the shoulders, thinner at the waist. He smelled like a mix of antiseptic and static.

"Ah," Phineas says with an almost endearment, "You look well."

Stranger overlooks his face. While they certainly thought he was handsome as we was now, Phineas was definitely a heartbreaker in his younger days, they can see it in his features. Their gaze moved to Phineas' bleary eyes and the deep, deep circles under them. His breath smelled clean, but carried hints of 2 - Hour Energy Brew.

"I wish I could say the same about you," They point out, "You look like you haven't slept in days."

Phineas slips his hand away, waves off the comment, "Oh, I'm fine."

"I don't mean to offend you, Welles, but....isn't it dangerous to be scraping around with dangerous tools while half asleep?"

"I assure you, I'm fine. Two hours a night is enough - "

" _Two hours_?" Stranger is shocked, "Good God, man, that will kill you!"

"I'm still standing, aren't I?"

They run a hand through their hair, "And will the excuse of still standing be worth it when the Board is knocking on your door?"

"Oh, those pigs won't find me - "

"And if they do?" Dangerously so, they let their tone dip into worry.

Phineas goes quiet. His lips press together, grimacing crookedly, "I suppose you have a point."

Stranger puts their hands on their hips, "One full night of sleep isn't gonna kill you. Besides, I'm here to run around and do your dirty work for you, so I know you must have some free time for more than two hours of sleep."

He grunts in reluctant agreement, bending down to pick up the case of lotion, "Not that I have any choice in the matter."

Quickly, they swoop in, grab the case right out of his hands, ignoring the soft sound of protest he makes, "I'll have Parvati take a look at that ship of yours, then, if it bothers you so much," They flash him a smirk, "Then you can do your own dirty work, and I'll waste my bits gambling in Fallbrook," They carry the case to the back of the room, and up a short flight of stairs.

"Don't - "

"There's a reason I was able to unite the MSI and the Iconoclasts, Welles," Stranger finds other boxes like the one in their hands, and sets it down, "I can be very convincing when I need to be."

Phineas motions to a terminal, "But my work - "

"Will still be there in the morning when you wake up. You're the only one with access to the place, and me and my crew are docked in the loading bays," They jerk a thumb back, "You get some sleep, and I'll have Parvati take a look and see what needs to be done on your ship," They snatch a bottle of lotion, stepping down.

Phineas doesn't bother humoring Stranger with a pondering look, he simply puts his hands up, "Alright, alright, since you seem so adamant about it. I guess six hours of sleep - "

"Eight," Stranger cuts in.

He gasps, "Eight is far too long - "

"Seven and a half."

" _Seven_ ," Phineas says in sharp finality, "Hours of sleep will not hurt."

Knowing they've won the battle, Strange grins, and winks, "Thanks for the stims, Welles," They leave the lab, waving, "See you in the morning!"

  
-

  
It's not until Stranger takes a long, hot shower, puts on their sleepwear, and gets ready for twelve hours of black - out bliss in their quarters that they realize they've forgotten their helmet. They groan, rub their hands over their face. Normally, if they had forgotten anything in Welles' lab, they would just retrieve it later, but that helmet had taken an unfortunate spill in a sulfur pit after being knocked right off their head by a Mantisaur, and it was in dire need of repair. The stale air of the orbiting lab would definitely make the casing crack if they didn't get on it quick enough.

Dejectedly, and as unhappily as possible, Stranger pulls on a clean pair of pants, a loose button up, and a clean pair of boots, tucking their shirt into their waistband, miserably walking out of their room. The rest of the ship was as quiet as they've ever heard it. The Vicar and Dr. Fenhill were fans of going to bed at reasonable times, and turned in early. Parvati was no doubt in the engine room, tinkering away at the already pristine condition she kept the engines in, and SAM was asleep in his docking port. Since Stranger had taken Nyoka and Felix on their outing that day, the two were no doubt in a dead, probably drunken, sleep in their bunks.

They carefully descend the stairs, trying to will away the ache in their body. They didn't want to feel so old - 47 wasn't old in the slightest - but travelling and fighting on every planet they step foot on was taking it's toll on their bones.

"Going so soon, Captain?" ADA asks.

"Forgot my helmet in the lab," They say with a yawn, "Oh, if you see Parvati at any time, tell her Phineas asked if she could take a look at his cruiser, make a list of what needs replacing or repaired," In their anxiousness to turn in for the night, they forgot to ask her.

"Of course, Captain. I'll let her know."

"Thank you. I'll be right back."

They pop the doors open, stepping out. Stale exhaust fills their senses, making them grimace. They walk across the catwalk, ducking around crates and unopened cargo, and into the labs. Bubbles is still milling about, snorting contently. Stranger puts their hand out, letting the cystypig nudge their palm.

"Hello," They say, "Phineas get to bed yet?"

Bubbles snorts, nudging their palm more, looking for treats.

"No, I don't have any, sorry. Phineas said no more Purpleberry Crunch, remember? Makes you sick," They give Bubbles a pat on the head, then move to the lab table where they last left their helmet.

It's not there.

With a tired scoff, Stranger starts searching the room. They could've sworn they left it on the table they were resting on before. After a few minutes of searching, Stranger huffs, frowns. Where the Hell did that helmet go?

They look at Bubbles, "Did you see my helmet anywhere?"

Bubbles snorts, then goes to the corner, where Phineas had left a pile of white sheets collected as a makeshift bed. Bubbles circles a few times, then lays down.

"Big help. Thanks, Bubbles," They sigh again. _Maybe....Phineas took my helmet?_ Though it seemed odd, it was the only logical conclusion Stranger could of, besides sprats making off with it. And old Bubbles certainly didn't have a taste for sulfur - drenched metal. They think of knocking on the barrier that usually separated the two, but they weren't sure Phineas would even hear it from whatever lied beyond the door in the back.

They check the door to the inner labs, seeing that it's open. It was unlike Phineas to leave it unlocked. The Stranger wonders if it was because of the Unreliable's presence. They blush thinking about it. Phineas Welles, finally being able to take a breath thanks to the strong, dutiful presence of the Unreliable and her crew - 

"I need to stop watching aetherwave serials with Felix," Stranger mutters to themself aloud. Stopping to fantasize about the scientist certainly wouldn't return their helmet any faster.

They look around the inner lab, not seeing their helmet. They stop at the bottom of the stairs in the back of the lab, looking at the closed door. Stranger guessed it was probably to Phineas' quarters. They raise a fist, knocking.

They wait a few seconds, then wonder - if Phineas is actually asleep in his room, is it worth interrupting his dreaming to get back their helmet? It was only custom made, very expensive, with a respirator, and it was amazing at bouncing off bullets, and was basically concussion - proof, and -

They exhale. They had to get that helmet back. They open the door, it sliding open without resistance. They step through the hallway. It was cold, lacking the warmth of the lab, and they shudder. Their steps are hollow against the metal grating of the hall, and at the end, was a second door. They raise a fist, beating softly.

They're barely out there five seconds before the door slides open. Phineas has a grin on his face.

"Ah! Stranger. Good to see you again. What are you doing up? I thought you were going to bed?"

"I could say the same thing about you," They say.

"Ah, well, I just had to finish something first - " Phineas waves them inside.

Phineas' back quarters are spacious and open, warm, with piles of tools, half - finished projects, and other items scattered around. It's fitted with a kitchen, bottles and foodstuffs laid out on the counters, a complete mess that Stranger cannot stand the sight of. Another few steps, and they stop, eyes wide.

The entire back wall of the room is a big window, with a beautiful view of the emptiness of space outside. Stars were pinpricks lightyears away, asteroids and space debris passing by almost leisurely from the other side of the glass. There's the distant visage of Terra 2, blue and wonderful, so far away, yet teeming with life within the atmosphere.

"Was there a reason you came to my quarters, Captain?"

Stranger snaps out of their trance, looking at Phineas, remembering their task, "I left my helmet in your lab, and now I can't seem to find it."

"Ah, I thought it was yours. It looked in dire need of repair, so I thought I'd give it a look," He leads them to a desk against the left wall. On top was definitely Stranger's helmet, the casing removed, some of the wiring undone, "What happened?"

"It fell in a sulfur pit. Knocked right off my head by some of the native fauna of Monarch."

"Dastardly things."

"I got it back, though. Took a few minutes of fishing, but...." They approach the desk, smoothing their fingers over the place where the lenses should be, but had since been removed. It looked cleaner than when Stranger brought it in.

"I hope you aren't angry with me."

"Nonsense," Stranger says immediately. They were smart enough to know that when Phineas took something, it wasn't just to tinker and toy and then scrap for parts. It was to fix, to make, to rebuild and repair. To help, rather than to satisfy his own curiosity, "I could never be mad at you," And besides, they were more than touched by Phineas taking the time out of his schedule, packed with experiments, to deal with one flimsy helmet.

There's a long quiet. Stranger turns, and Phineas is overlooking them with the most curious expression. It's completely unreadable to Stranger, but their eyes cast down to his clothes, noticing he's still in his usual uniform.

"Haven't turned in quite yet?" They ask.

"I was, but then I noticed your helmet in the lab, and thought it needed an upgrade or two. The lenses were in need of cleaning, and padding needed to be re - fitted, and - "

Phineas lists off a number of upgrade he's planned for the helmet, and Stranger smirks through the whole time.

"Well," Stranger says, cutting into Phineas' words, "Thank you for trying, Welles, but I think I'll just take my helmet and go for the night."

Phineas stutters, "B - But I'm not finished yet - "

"Oh, Parvati can help me finish your work, don't worry. She's a genius at armor modifications."

"Captain - "

"I should've been smarter than to leave a new piece of tech behind in your presence when you're trying to get some rest."

"Please, I'm almost done - "

Stranger begins to collects a few spare bolts.

"I - It's not even a quarter finished! It'll take me at least another two hours to - "

"Then you can do it in the morning over coffee," They carefully pick up the casing. When they look over their shoulder, Phineas' cheeks are red, an impossibly sour look on his face.

"If you're so stubborn to take your helmet," He says, crossing his arms, "Then be my guest. I will simply continue my studies in your absence."

Stranger frowns, "That's not what I meant," Their plan had backfired. They meant to force Phineas into a sleep, but clearly, Phineas had other plans.

He shrugs, grinning tightly, "No, no, I'm sure you're tired after your journey today. You get some rest, while I go over the logistics of the - "

They let go of the helmet, placing it back down on the table, putting their hands on their hips, "You're being ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as you trying to take a helmet half - done, and forcing me to relax and rest when there is simply too much to do."

Stranger scoffs at the man's stubbornness, "Well I'm not leaving until you get some rest."

"And I shall not be resting until that helmet is done."

Their eyes meet. Stranger likes to think themselves as a steely wall, impenetrable to the sways of others, but Phineas is different. The Stranger wasn't a fearsome mercenary, a strong savior of a town, or simply a charming and persuasive individual. No, to Phineas, they were an equal, someone he has no reason to shrink down from. Despite the name Stranger had made for themself in Halcyon, Phineas was someone who saw through the ferocity and tenacity, who knows that there is a human under the layers of leather and metal plating, that hands existed under thick gloves that so deftly pulled triggers and tapped at terminal keyboards.

So it's no surprise to Stranger that they give in first.

They go to a chair propped close to the window, sitting down. They cross their arms.

"Then sit tight, Welles, because you can't get rid of me that easily," The irony of acting like a child when their chosen profession was a schoolteacher doesn't go past them.

"Be that way, then," Phineas says, raising his chin, "I'm going to continue my work."

When Phineas' back is turned, Stranger sticks a tongue out.

"I know what you're doing back there," He says.

Stranger huffs, crossing their legs, and settles in stubbornly.

  
-

  
Stranger's attention is focused on the helmet being addressed on Phineas' workbench, but their eyes keep getting dragged to the man himself. How his brow dips low in focus, how his teeth seem to be clenched as he works a screw into the frame of the helmet. He hums, talks to himself, sips his drink straight from the bottle. He swears when he gets shocked by a loose wire, and lets out a triumphant laugh when something goes his way. Strangely enough, Phineas works as if Stranger isn't even there. It's endearing to watch, to say the least.

Stranger ends up draping an arm over the railings of a walkway, leaning. As the minutes pass, Stranger's eyelids become heavier and heavier, catching themself as they lean forward in a sleepy daze.

"Getting tired, Captain?" Phineas asks jokingly.

"Not on your life," Stranger spits back playfully.

"So, you wouldn't mind if I played some music, would you?"

"Of course I wouldn't."

Phineas puts down his tools, moving to a stereo in the corner. He flips a few dials, and music starts to play. He goes back to his workstation, picking up a torch.

At first, Stranger doesn't hear it, but then they hear the telltale strings of a violin. It's smooth like the pour of a whiskey, the artist plucking the strings at well - timed intervals. Soft synths follow, expanding into a broad scheme of gentle piano and a low, low bass line.

The music fills all of Stranger's thoughts, making their eyelids even heavier. Bastard. They stretch out their legs and arms.

"Tired yet?"

"Who, me?" They huff fakely, "Of course not."

"Well, you're free to use my bunk if you so choose. I certainly aren't going to need it anytime soon," He says so with a grin.

Stranger yawns, "I don't need it."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as can be."

Phineas shrugs, and goes back to his work. After a few minutes of music, Stranger stands from their chair. If they sat any longer, they would surely fall asleep, and the mental battle of wits between two stubborn old - er, mature, people would be lost. They try to stare out the window, at the expanse of space, but only finds the emptiness hypnotic. They place a hand on the cold glass, leaning their forehead against it, eyes just closing for a moment....

An alarm blares in the room, jolting Stranger a foot back. Phineas yells something out, yanking them by the collar and moving them out of the way. He rushes to a panel on the side of the window, opening it, and slamming on a button. The alarm subsides.

"I'm so sorry, Stranger," Phineas says, "I should've warned you about the window."

Their heart beating harshly in their ribcage, threatening to burst, Stranger leans against the railing, clutching their chest. Their eyes see a note pinned to the window. DO NOT TAP - PANELS LOOSE it reads. Phineas approaches them, eyebrows knitted.

"Maybe you should lie down."

"I'm fine," They say adamantly, "Thank you, Phineas, but I'm fine."

"At least take a seat that isn't so close to the windows."

Has a point there. Stranger, their heart returning to a manageable beat, lets themself be led by the arm to Phineas' bed. He sits them down, pats at their shoulders. His hands linger there for a while, staring down at Stranger's face. He squints.

"What is it?" Stranger asks.

"When you first woke up, you had an almost blue tone to you," He peers closer.

"Really?" Stranger looks down at their hands, at the rich brown of their skin. They never really looked in a mirror much during the first few days of being in Halcyon,"Guess I defrosted."

Phineas laughs. He takes off the work gloves he was wearing, tucking them under his arm, and then places two fingers under their chin, "Eyes up, please."

Used to the constant exams from Dr. Fenhill, Stranger raises their head. Phineas' eyes scrutinize them. Up until this point, all of the two's contact was strictly over video chat, or through a glass barrier. It was never so up close. The two fingers under Stranger's chin tilt their face to the side.

"As well as losing that blue tint, your sclera have gained their natural color. That's also a good sign," Phineas says out loud. He's taking mental notes, Stranger guesses. His fingers brush a scar on their temple, "This is new."

"Funny story, actually," Stranger says, "Nyoka was trying to teach Parvati how to handle a trip - blade, and, well, she's strong, but she's not used to a two - handed weapon like that. It slipped right out of her hands while I was watching nearby," They smile thinking about it, "All the color drained out of her face. The poor thing thought she killed me."

"Glad to see she missed. Any closer, and I might've had to save the colony on my own."

"It was my fault. I should've stood back a bit more. She's got a good arm, though. Felix has been trying to get her to play tossball with - "

Phineas' fingers trail down their cheek, cupping their chin.

" - Him."

The room falls into a quiet. Phineas' palm and fingertips are warm, worn and rough from years of work. Stranger's face grows hot, and they won't deny it, Phineas Welles is an attractive man. He was polite, if eccentric and, well, they can't say it's not part of his charm. He was a kind man out to do the right thing, and he's been isolating himself all these years to try and do it. Because he cares more about the lives of the colony than anything else. It was admirable, but sad, to Stranger.

"Have you had any strange sensations? An intense pain under the skin? A strange gelatinous substance when you sweat? A burning in your fingertips and toes?" He turns Stranger's face this way and that.

"Nope. Everything's been fine so far," They grin, keeping their eyes wherever the man wasn't. Keep it professional, Stranger. There was no need to pour out their heart's desires at the moment.

More silence. Stranger dares to glance up, and Phineas is staring at them, eyes soft.

Quickly, he clears his throat, pulls his hands away, "Everything seems to be in order," He says, "You rest up. And don't touch the windows."

Rather than fight, even jokingly, Stranger simply nods, the time for stubbornness long since past. Phineas takes a step back, pulling on his gloves again and giving Stranger an almost wistful look. He walks off, back to working on the helmet.

Their whole body suddenly feeling as if it were made of lead, Stranger takes off their boots, and leans back on the bed.

  
-

  
Stranger wakes to the smell of smoke. It knocks them out of their dreams, their eyes flicking open. They inhale, then sit up suddenly. They jump out of the bunk, head swiveling around as they try to find the source. They walk a few feet, and over in the kitchen area, Phineas is passed out in a chair at the table, head down, still in his clothes from the night before, another bottle of 2 - Hour Energy Brew on the table. On the stove was a pan with thick grey smoke rising from it. Quickly, Stranger crosses over to it, shutting the stove off and wapping at the smoke that leapt from the pan. Inside were the charred remains of what Stranger guessed were cystypig tumors. They sigh through their nose, tossing the towel onto the counter.

They look at the clock on the wall, seeing that they've only been asleep for three hours. And they felt it in their burning muscles, too.

There were a few things that Stranger noticed around the quarters. One; the kitchen was in dire need of a cleanup, two; that Phineas was fast asleep, and given the time it can take to burn a cystypig tumor, he hadn't been for long, and three; the smoke alarms weren't working. How Phineas even stayed asleep through the burning smell was beyond them, but given the rotting bodies of animals in his lab, he's probably smelled worse. Phineas' living habits worried Stranger.

As quietly as they can, Stranger walks to Phineas' sleeping self. They rub a hand on his shoulder.

"Phineas?"

Welles nearly falls out of his chair, he wakes up so fast. Out of surprise, Stranger pulls their hand away, stepping back. He looks miserable, for a second, but upon seeing them, grins tightly to mask it.

"Ah! Good morning, Stranger. Sleep well?"

"I did, until you burned your breakfast and the smell woke me up."

Phineas looks to the smoldering pan on the stove, "Oh, I - "

"Did you know your smoke alarm isn't working?" Stranger asks him, concerned.

"It's been broken for a while now, I haven't had the time to fix it," He points to the wall near the door, where a small panel sits.

"How long is a while?"

Phineas thinks hard, "About, uh, say, three months, give or take."

Stranger sighs through their nose, "Well, that's certainly dangerous."

He waves them off, "I certainly know how to deal with a simple kitchen fire, Stranger."

"But it was me who put it out. Did the smell not wake you?"

He sniffs the air, "No. It seems not," He says quietly.

Stranger stands straight, hands on their hips, "I think that means you need to get to bed."

"I'm - "

"Phineas," Stranger says solidly, "If you can fall asleep to the smell of burning meat, you're definitely overdue for some rest."

Though most unhappy, Phineas sighs and nods, "I guess you may have a point."

Finally. Stranger holds out a hand, the man taking it. He stretches as he stands, rubbing his eyes.

"I'll see you in a few hours then," He says with another yawn. He pulls his hand away, only to have Stranger grasp it still.

"Ah ah ah," They tut, holding out their free hand, "Gloves?"

Phineas eyes them, then removes his gloves, placing them into their hand.

"Thank you."

"You're utterly ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as almost burning the lab down," They grin.

He pulls away, waving them off. He mutters some annoyed words, then disappears around the corner to his bed.

Then Stranger waits. Not very long, just until they hear light snoring, which takes place maybe two minutes after Phineas disappears. They look down at the gloves in their hands. Phineas' gloves are leather, worn down from work. There's stray seams at the stitching, fabric pulling from the fingers. Could use a new pair soon. They place his gloves down on the kitchen table, and get to work.

The first thing on their agenda as they roll up their metaphorical sleeves was to collect all the bottles that line the counterspaces. Anything empty was tossed into the garbage chute, and remnants of age - old drinks were dumped and disposed of.

They go into the fridge, recoiling at the foul smelling things rotting inside. They shiver, make a face, and dispose of things clearly old, and clearly rotting, dabbing the insides of the refrigerator with a towel and cleaner. They aren't satisfied until every stain is gone. They return still - good perishables to the inside, along with any unopened bottles to chill until needed.

They roll through the rest of the kitchen, throwing out old boxes and wrapper scraps, placing still - full tins and boxes into the cabinets above. They scrape the remnants of what was Welles' 'breakfast' from the pan and into the trash. Dishes were left out in the sink, and Stranger takes their time polishing them to perfection, stacking them neatly in a cabinet.

They take a moment to step back, hands on their hips, admiring their own handiwork. Cleaning was something they enjoyed, seeing the grime wash away to reveal the true exterior. It filled them with a sense of accomplishment.

Then their attention is grabbed by the panel on the far wall, pointed out before by Phineas. They open the panel, and frown at what they see. All that was wrong was a loose wire, easily fixed by reattaching it to it's rightful plug. There. That should fix the smoke detector. Their frown only grows deeper. Such an easy job, but he's too busy to take care of it. It tugs at Stranger's gut, thinking about it. It could be described as suicidal stupidity - the same way one would feel the looseness of the brakes of their car and think nothing of it. But Phineas wasn't stupid, and by all of the notes stapled to the walls of the lab as reminders, was more forgetful than anything else.

Turning around and seeing the rest of the room, Stranger wants to clean up the scraps and bolts laying around, but Phineas was a genius by all accounts, and like any genius, he had a specific flow to his workspaces. Stranger could get away with cleaning a kitchen and fixing a smoke alarm, but they doubt that their time spent on clearing a workbench and disrupting the purposely - placed supplies and tools would be less - than appreciated.

They look out the window again, making sure they're a safe distance away. Nothing about the outside has changed, besides the positions of space debris. They still weren't used to that, waking up and seeing that the sky above is the same color as the one you had when you went to sleep. They take a step, and their foot brushes a shirt thrown down on the floor. Their eyes follow other clothing items - shirts, socks, boots, you name it - it was like the man's closet had exploded and spread out along the cabin. When they look up, they raise their eyebrows.

Built into the far right wall, was very clearly a washer and dryer. Based on the wear and coloring of the machines, Stranger deduces they were part of the original architecture of the orbital lab. Maybe I should install a washer and dryer into the Unreliable, they think. All of the crew's laundry was done in the bathroom shower, or kitchen sink, depending on the size of the load. Stranger takes collects all the clothes strewn about, bunching them up in their arms.

They carefully cross the room, eyeing Phineas' sleeping form. He's snoring lightly, one arm thrown across his eyes, looking as if he had fainted in his bed. He's still in his labwear. Stranger sighs, shakes their head. It's not good if Phineas works himself to death before he can actually save the Hope colonists, and the people of Halcyon.

They head over to the built in washer and dryer. There's no clothes inside (Unsurprising,) leaving plenty of room for the laundry. They load up, grabbing a bottle of Spacer's Choice brand detergent and adding a cup. They set the timer for thirty minutes. The washing machine rattles slightly, but is otherwise fairly quiet.

Next to the machines, tucked into the corner of the quarters, was the bathroom. Though they expect it to be a complete and utter disaster, it's not. It's fairly clean, actually, not much for Stranger to do besides organize bottles of soap and toothpaste and pick up a towel or two. There's a note taped to the shower wall which reads: REMINDER - HOT WATER KNOB LOOSE - FIX LATER. Judging by the faded ink and blotted paper, later was probably weeks ago. They peer at the hot water knob, tightening the screws. They step out of the shower, reaching in and turning it on. Hot water hits their hand, and they beam, then frown. Has he been taking cold showers all this time? They shiver at the thought, and shut the water off. The rip the note from the wall, exiting the room with the towels. They throw the articles down, the next load to be added, and toss the paper into a wastebin close by.

Phineas, deeply asleep in his bed, snorts and mutters, catching Stranger's attention. Their eyes draw to his legs, seeing that he fell asleep with still in his boots. He can't be comfortable with those on. They approach the sleeping man quietly. One of his legs are off the bed, planted on the floor, the other stretched on the sheets. They kneel down, carefully untying the laces and pulling the one boot off. His socks are holey. Phineas doesn't wake. Stranger does the same for the other boot, taking them and placing them neatly down in front of the bed, next to their own discarded boots. Phineas' are worn out, the soles grinded to dust. There's a hole that threatens to tear through the right toe. Spacer's Choice, no doubt.

"Could use a new pair of these, too," They say to themselves outloud in an undecipherable whisper, "That fiend with the moonhead on Groundbreaker should have a few in stock...but Spacer's Choice? Maybe something more sturdy - " There's a creak of the bed, and they freeze, head snapping up. Phineas is up on his elbows, staring hard, eyebrows knitted.

There's a long, stretched out silence between them, Stranger's face hot as the sun.

"Sorry," They say, "You didn't look comfortable."

"I thought you'd've left already," Phineas says dryly.

Stranger places the boots back down, rising from the floor, "I was about to, but..." They shrug, palms out, "This place looked in need of a little cleaning, so I - "

Phineas swings his legs over the bed, sits up.

They shake their head, "No, no, there's no need to get up, I - "

But it's already too late, as Phineas stands slowly from his bed, grunting softly. He paces around, seeing the washer spinning. Stranger sweats. You've really done it now. They went overboard with their treatment of him, acted too familiar in his domain. It was one lesson they never learned much from - not everyone needs your help, nor is it always appreciated. It should've hit them harder that Phineas might react badly to unwanted hands touching his things, handling him in his sleep. All they can do for now is wait for an anger that hasn't shown itself yet.

Phineas paces to the kitchen, seeing the job Stranger had done with an almost blank expression, He points to the panel next to the door, Stranger having left it open, "What happened there?" He asks, almost softly.

Stranger paces closer to him, hands clasped behind their back, "Fixed the wiring of the smoke alarm. It was nothing, really, just a simple patch job. It should be fine now."

Phineas falls quiet, while Stranger shifts next to him.

"I think I've overstayed my welcome, Welles," They say tightly, guiltily.

Phineas turns on his heel, looking at Stranger, who's heart sinks when they see the man's eyes welled, wet and shining in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

Taken aback, they shake their head, "I didn't mean to upset you, Phineas."

He huffs a laugh. He crosses his arms, rubbing his face with one hand, "Do I seem upset? I don't mean to. I'm more than thankful for this. I just...don't know how to properly express it. I...thank you, Stranger."

"Please, it was nothing."

"I don't deserve this - "

"Nonsense," They say quickly, "I did it because, well, with everything going on, it's....I only..." They gesture with head tilts, trying to search for words that didn't sound so....idiotic.

"I don't deserve your time and energy, Stranger," He says it with a tight grin.

Their heart only sinks lower, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't care about you."

Neither speak for a few seconds. Stranger keeps their eyes cast down at Phineas' shoulders. Too much, it was too much. A simple slip of the tongue, just the surface scrapings of deep - hidden affection. Stranger shines bright like a star with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you, Welles," They say, "It won't happen again. I'll just take my helmet - "

"It's not done," Phineas says, so quiet, arms folded still.

Stranger's eyes snap up. They blink in surprise.

"I'm sorry?"

Phineas exhales through his nose. His eyes are cast down, looking at Stranger's feet, "Your helmet isn't finished. I still have work to do on it."

They blink again.

Another sigh, "You said you weren't going to leave until I got my rest, and I said I wasn't going to rest until the helmet was done," He says so with a tight frown.

Again, they blink, confusion rolling through them, "I...I suppose I did say that, Welles," Is he angry for...my take back on our deal? It wasn't even a deal to begin with.

"So I haven't slept, and your equipment is still in ill repair, which means there's no reason for you to leave yet, is there?"

They still don't understand.

Aggravated, Phineas closes his eyes, "Subtly isn't my strong suit, apologies. I don't think I'm being clear," He raises his head, opening his eyes, "I don't want you to leave," He says is matter - of - factly, pointedly.

It was as if Stranger had been propelled into space, the noise of the cabin drops to such a violent quiet. The more Stranger looks at him, the less he looks aggravated, and the more he looks....

Embarrassed.

It was in the shade of red on his cheeks, the way his brows knit together, the squinted eyes, his stillness, waiting, waiting, for an answer.

The once sinking feeling Stranger felt in their chest leapt into their throat. They nod their head once, as hard, hard realization hits them, "Oh," They say, feeling their own embarrassed flush rise to their cheeks.

While Stranger had fantasized about the scientist before, both romantic and otherwise, they always figured it would stay just like that, fantasy. That Phineas was a man too wrapped up in his work to open himself up in that way....or, at least, that's what they thought. Just how long has Phineas' attraction to them stood for - just as long as Stranger's had? Was their chores around the quarters the final nail in the proverbial coffin? Or was there something else?

They look over Phineas. Once, twice, before shifting in their spot, choosing their words as carefully as they can, "If you want me to stay," They take a cautious step towards him, "I will."

Phineas meets them with a plucky step of his own, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Of course not. You never trouble me, Phineas," If anything, Stranger was the troublesome one, always showing up to Phineas' orbital lab with a new companion they hadn't warned him about.

He exhales shakily, "I would hate to take you away from your crew."

"They can survive without me for a bit. This might as well be a vacation for them. Until it's absolutely necessary that I have to go, I won't," Their hands are still clasped behind their back, scared to make the first move.

Phineas takes another step, and Stranger realizes that there's only less than a foot separating them, "But if there's anything more pressing...."

Unsure. Still unsure.

Through hot will, Stranger is able to force the words out, "Nothing could make me leave, Phineas. The ship could be burning in the docking bay, and I don't think I'd leave. A meteor could strike the lab, and I don't think I'd leave. Good God, raiders could burst through the doors, and I'd make my last stand here," They accentuate their words by closing the distance between the two, looking down at Phineas. They try to breathe steadily, tamping down the excitement that was bubbling within them.

A grin tries to pull itself onto Phineas' face, "I - "

"God, Phineas, please stop with this nonsense exposition and let me fucking kiss you," Their hands still behind their back, they clench a fist over one wrist, anxious.

The quirk of a grin grows, just exposing a hint of teeth. Stranger leans down.

Phineas' lips are dry and chapped, but Stranger doesn't mind. There's a lot they don't mind about Phineas, like his wild hair or wrinkled clothes or messy workspace (OK, that does bother them, but that's not important at the moment.) Phineas runs his hands over Stranger's shoulders, and for a second, they think he'll push them off. He doesn't, instead reaching up, up the back of Stranger's head, threading through the short hair there.

It's been so long since Stranger has been touched, everything causes them to tremble, and the need for physical contact was suddenly all consuming. Other than the very literal seventy years they've been in stasis, and the few months they've been awake in Halcyon, it had been little over two years since Stranger had contact with a man before they left Earth, living chaste. Not that partners were sparse, they'd definitely been propositioned a few times, but besides the whole dramatic reason they left their home planet in the first place, they also preferred an emotional connection, a bond to be built between them and a partner, before physical contact was made, and them and Phineas had definitely built a relationship together, albeit more professional and platonic....until now.

They unclasp their hands from behind their back, moving to Phineas' hips, pushing deeper into the kiss. Phineas cups their face, moving backwards, forcing Stranger to follow. He moves the two of them to the kitchen counter, and thankfully it's clean and free of all debris, as he grips the edge of the counter and hoists himself up. With the extra few inches, he's the same height as Stranger, and hooks his legs around their waist. His fingers deftly undo the buttons of their shirt, flaying it open, rubbing his hands over their chest. He plays with the beads of an OSI prayer necklace Stranger wears. While they didn't believe in the OSI, it was a pretty bauble they liked wearing.

There's an almost desperate passion to him, and Stranger doesn't need a college education to understand that it's all due to a deep set feeling of loneliness. Phineas has been on the run for over twenty - five years. If Stranger were in his position, on the run from UDL bootlickers and ducking corporate law wherever they went, their pick of partners would certainly be reduced to a meager handful, if that. That loneliness, it empties you, and you find yourself scrounging for as much as you can to fill yourself back up, until you become almost content with it, like it's always been there, and always will be.

Stranger kisses him a few more times, then takes a few deep, anxious breaths, and leans in to kiss the man's neck. Stubble pokes at their lips, and they kiss up his jaw, the sides of his cheeks, pressing into him. Phineas ducks his head into Stranger's shoulder, holding their chests together. He lifts his hips, pushing into them. Stranger exhales loudly. It's not pathetic to be hard already, right? They move their fingers along his thighs, feeling the front of his uniform, trying to find some fucking opening on this fucking suit -

"Stranger," Phineas breathes.

"Yeah?" They reply.

"Do you mind if we move to a more, ah, comfortable spot?"

Stranger doesn't need to be told twice. They hook their hands under his thighs, lifting him easily off the counter. He's light, a little too light for his height, they think. Phineas yelps, holding tight as they awkwardly carry him to his bed. All those hours lugging around heavy guns was worth something, after all. By the grace of the heavens, Stranger manages not to bash either of their heads into the edge of the bedframe. They lean him down in the small space. It was actually slightly bigger than a standard bunk, giving them more room. They crowd him in.

"Comfortable enough?"

"Very," Phineas' legs clamp around their waist, arms around their neck, pulling them down, claiming their mouth in another kiss.

A tongue wedges into Stranger's mouth. They shiver, palming around Phineas' pants again, unsuccessful in their search for an opening.

"Where the Hell is the zipper on this thing?" They mumble against his mouth.

"It runs down the back," He says, "Hold on a moment," He pulls his limbs away from Stranger, shimmying out of the weathered brown leather coat he wears, then out of the collared overshirt. Underneath the layers was a sleeveless jumpsuit, Phineas' arms catching Stranger's attention. They follow the dark, greying hair that spread over them, the lean pattern of muscle. He throws his discarded clothes out of the bunk, reaching under to undo his jumpsuit. He struggles, face twisting.

"Goddamn zipper," He mutters.

"I could do it for you," Stranger says, "If you're having trouble," They grin toothlessly, blushing, blushing, like they're back in high school.

Phineas stops dead in his tracks, his face red like a bottle of Spectrum Red, "If you'd like to."

"I'd really like to."

Phineas is quiet as he rolls onto his stomach. A long zipper runs from his shoulders to his lower back.

Stranger takes a few steady breathes, stroking their hands down Phineas' back, down until they reach his backside. There wasn't much meat on Phineas' end, but that doesn't stop Stranger from grabbing at what little there was. They squeeze, listening to him sigh, and tuck his arms underneath his chin. They finger the clutch of the zipper, pulling it down slow, watching skin appear. Stranger holds their palm to his exposed back, feeling the heat that radiates from him.

"You're lovely," They say absently, a thought that was never meant to see the light of conversation.

Phineas sighs again, but doesn't say anything. Stranger flays open the back of the suit, a number of weathered scars revealing themselves. Ever so gently, they trace a few with their fingertips, getting lost in the expanse of flesh. He looks to Phineas, who's head is turned to its side, watching to the best of his ability with a wide eye. He's uncharacteristically quiet, Stranger realizes.

"Something wrong?" They ask.

"Absolutely nothing," He replies, "But this isn't the ideal position to be watching you."

Stranger lets out a light laugh, "Let me undo this, and you'll be able to watch all you'd like," Their body burns red hot, "Can I ask what you like, Phineas? Just to set the groundwork," Usually, those terms would be set way earlier before, but, well, they didn't exactly get that chance, nor did they expect to have that conversation with the scientist.

"At this point? I could go for anything," He rocks his hips back, grinding against Stranger's lap.

Stranger huffs through a grin, "Can I tell you what I'm into?"

Phineas nods, "Yes, tell me."

"I'm a big fan of taking my time," They pull the zipper of his suit down lower, "Making sure you get yours. I like a lot less pain, a lot more passion," They lean forward, kissing down the length of Phineas' spine, "Just to name a few things."

"Well," Phineas says, almost shakily, "We aren't too far off the mark. But I should warn you, it's has been a few years since I've been with someone - " He pauses, "Too much?"

"No. It's been....what, seventy two years since I've been with a man? Not since my - " They cut themself off before anything else can leave their lips.

"Stranger?"

"Sorry. You probably don't want to hear about my drama from back home."

They fan their hands over Phineas' back, but all of a sudden, he turns over. He stretches up his arms, cupping Stranger's face.

"I'd like to hear about it, if you want to talk about it," He says softly. He thumbs at Stranger's cheeks.

Stranger turns their cheek into his palm, holding his wrist, "I haven't talked about it in a long time," They say.

"I'm a decent listener," He says.

This may be a new galaxy a lifetime away, but the past always has a nasty way of showing up, still haunting you, suffocating your thoughts.

"Not now," They say, "Maybe later on, but not now."

Phineas' eyes flick over Stranger's face, then he nods, "If that makes you more comfortable."

Though Phineas did save their life, he didn't act like a man who expected much from it. He didn't expect any loyalty, or explanations of a past. It was so...so strange, like Phineas picked up an item they dropped rather than revived them from a close - to - a - decade long sleep.

"But I will tell you, I promise," Stranger says, "Now turn back over, I don't think I can put off touching you anymore than I already have."

Phineas grins, almost sadly, and lets go of their face, flipping back over. Stranger peels away, standing out of the bunk, hooking their fingers into the opening of his jumpsuit, pulling his hips with them, until Phineas is laying sideways in the bed, his hips off. Phineas shrugs out of the rest of his clothes, Stranger pulling it all the way down to his ankles and helping him step out of it, leaving Phineas only in his holey socks and a pair of weathered boxer - briefs. They take the clothes he's already shed, making a cushion on the floor to kneel on.

They touch between Phineas' legs through the fabric of his underwear. Phineas sighs softly, fisting his sheets. How reactive. Then again, he did say it was a few years. Deciding there was no greater honor than breaking that dry spell, they grab the waist of his briefs, pulling them down to his ankles.

Stranger can't tear their eyes away, and for a raging second, they're jealous of everyone who had seen the man in this state and let him get away. Phineas was sopping wet, dark hair tangled and unkept, and through it, an engorged clit peeking out. They spread Phineas' knees apart more, finding that their jaw aches to have a taste of whats between them. They inch closer, mouthing at the back of his thighs, scraping their teeth on his skin.

"Still with me, Phineas?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good," Stranger drags the pads of their fingers down the middle of him, earning them a soft sigh, Phineas' thighs tensing. They part the lips of him with their thumbs, dark pink shining with slick. Stranger breathes in deep, smelling his musk.

Phineas scoffs, "Stranger!"

"I can't help it," Stranger says with a shiver that ends between their legs, "You look incredible."

Phineas falls quiet, and Stranger takes the opportunity to lay a kiss at his opening. They spread the hair there, shifting on their knees and worrying at his outer lips. They lap at the slick that pours from him, tasting salt. Phineas moan softly, muffled by the sheets of his bed. Stranger grabs at his thighs, pushing them apart farther. They nip at the outer labia. Phineas presses his chest flat to the bed, face buried in the mattress.

They split Phineas with their thumbs again, digging their tongue within him. A moan a pitch higher leaves Phineas' throat. The sounds speckle down Stranger's chest, rest in their groin. They lick a stripe from clit to opening, diving their tongue back in. Phineas' thighs tense around their head, for a moment, then spread again. His hand reaches back, grasping at their shoulder.

"Stranger, please," He says, almost wearily.

Spurring Stranger on, they get a rhythm going as they massage their tongue in and out of Phineas. He twitches, moans, Stranger utterly overwhelmed by his smell and taste. They release one hand from Phineas' backside, rubbing softly at his engorged clit. The moans grow louder, his hips pushing back into Stranger's mouth. The hand on their shoulder moves to their hair, gripping, fingers wound tight in their curls in what they can only describe as desperation.

They reach under his thighs, circle their hands around his waist so his legs sat over their shoulders, and buries their tongue deep, their hands flat on the small of his back. Phineas lets out a slew of swears, pulling his hand back, gripping at his hair.

"Stranger - " 

Stranger moans, swallowing salt. They're staring so hard at the back of Phineas' head, they think they might burn holes into it. Their eyebrows crease. While certainly an enjoyable angle, Stranger can't see Phineas' face, and longs to see him, to know how he twitches, how he looks when he moans. Unhappy with their position, they pull away, coaxing Phineas' legs off of their shoulders. They rub over his back.

"Roll over," They say, their voice low.

Phineas does, Stranger ducking under his one thigh as it swings over their head. Stranger is entranced by what they see. Phineas' cheeks and neck are flushed red, making age spots pop. Along his chest and down his stomach is a smattering of body hair, dark grey. On his chest, beneath his pecs, are two scars so faded, a normal person would never notice them. The two's eyes lock, pale green overblown by the black of Phineas' pupils. It doesn't last long, as Phineas breaks quickly, looking elsewhere.

Unable to help themself, they stand up from their knees, crawling over Phineas' body. They slide their hands over his chest, fingering the hair that grows there.

"Doing alright, Handsome?" They ask.

Phineas grins, "Fine," He certainly looks like he enjoyed being complimented.

"Just fine?"

He sighs, rubbing his hands over their shoulders, "Would you like a play - by - play?"

Stranger laughs, rubbing a hand down his stomach. While certainly a fit man, Phineas has a softness to him that Stranger presses their fingers into, massaging. They love the way Phineas is built, love every crease and scar they come across. There's a long scar at the bottom of his abdomen, just as faded as the scars on his chest. They trace it lightly with their fingers.

"You certainly have a lot of scars, Phineas," They say, "Very sexy."

Phineas laughs, rubbing a hand over his face, "I haven't been sexy in at least twenty years."

While Phineas certainly finds the self depreciation humorous, Stranger does not. They topple next to him, laying parallel, and Phineas shifts with them so the two are face - to - face. They cup his cheeks, claim his mouth in a soft kiss, as if he could smooch away all of those negative feelings. That, of course, doesn't happen anywhere but in romance serials. But, Stranger can pretend it will. Just like they're pretending that all of this physical contact, that the sight of Phineas Welles coming undone under their touch, isn't awakening deeper, more serious feelings within them. They think of stopping, but that wouldn't be very fair, would it? To let a man get so far, and then deny him? Someone as deserving as Phineas? It's blasphemous.

They break, smooth down his chest, "You've still got it," Stranger says, wedging a knee between his legs, causing Phineas to break off his next breath, "Oh, do you still got it."

Phineas comes closer, their bodies tightly pressed together like the pages of a book. He rubs his hands over Stranger's exposed chest as he grinds against their leg. Stranger can feel a spot seep through their pants, damp and warm, and each roll of Phineas' hips presses nicely against their trapped cock, still untouched after all this time. They distantly think about freeing themselves, but decide not to. The focus on Phineas, his borderline - desperate grabbing and grinding, was much too sweet to interrupt. They were enjoying themselves either way.

They duck their head into his shoulder, kissing up the pulse of his neck, their hands rounding his body to grab at the supple flesh of his behind, pressing him closer.

"You're brilliant," They say into his ear, "Just brilliant," They rub their knee in tandem of his movements, "You drive me wild, Phineas."

The hands that roamed along their chest grasped their chin, coaxed them into a needy kiss. Stranger sucks on his bottom lip, rolling over so they hover over Phineas. They push his knees apart, wandering their fingers down, pushing two inside of him. Phineas throws his head back, back arching completely off the bed, squeezing around their digits. Stranger pushes his legs apart further, moving and straddling one of his thighs, their other free hand keeping his other thigh close to his chest. They fuck Phineas with their fingers, watching wordless moans escape him. For a man who's usually so articulate, he's lacking in the word department at the moment.

A few questions pop into their mind. Is that usually how he is? Does passion have a habit of overtaking him in this way? Or simply, is he overwhelmed by the sensations after such a long dry spell? Stranger hopes its the former. They could get used to the way his mouth falls open, how his fingers scramble to hold onto the sheets, tugging them out of their tucked corners. They curl their fingers up, thumbing at his clit.

Phineas lets out what Stranger can only recognize as a broken yell, the thigh they were holding to his chest straining against their grip, "I can't - Stranger - I can't - "

"Talk to me, Welles, what can I do?" They slow their pace.

He reaches up, fingers pulling at the collar of their shirt, "Making me think in this state, damn you," He mutters, making Stranger smile.

Less of a thought, more like a carnal desire, pops into their head, "I can do a lot more than barter for bits with this mouth, you know.

Phineas looks beside himself, eyes dark, "Then show me."

With explicit, undone permission, they pull their fingers out, parting Phineas' legs wide, kneeling down and burying their face between his legs. They part the hair there, and suck excitedly at his clit, circling the exposed nub with their tongue. Fingers rifle through their hair. Phineas jerks his hips up, grinding into their mouth, moans just pitching higher.

"Darling, I can't - "

The hot blood already beating through their body crashes like a wave. They suck harsher, spreading his legs as far as they would go. The fingers in their hair tighten, and Phineas lets out a shuddering cry. His hips jerk rapidly, making the old mattress of the bunk squeak. Stranger doesn't relent, keeping their tongue rolling against the man's clit, guiding him through. The man's thighs shake under their hands, the passionate cry dying out. The fingers in their hair slacken, brushing their hair from their forehead.

Stranger peels back, lips feeling swollen. The smooth over Phineas' thighs, coaxing them back down to lay on the bed, knees over the edge of the bed. Phineas breathes heavily, eyes slitted, whole body red. There's almost a tremor rolling over his shoulders, skin shining with sweat. He looks about ready to pass out. Stranger grins, wiping some drool and slick from their chin. That would be the cherry on top to the night - giving it to Phineas so good he sleeps for half the day. Their knees aching, Stranger falls back on their rear, sitting down. They could use a long sleep, too.

Phineas sits up, looking exhausted. Stranger rubs over his calves.

"You alright?"

He reaches out, grabbing their collar and pulling them up. They topple over him, and he kisses them with as much passion as he can muster in his post - orgasm haze. He rubs his hips up, pressing himself against Stranger's still - trapped cock.

"You," He says, almost accusingly, "Are much too patient," He reaches down, squeezing their length through their pants.

Stranger laughs, but shudders at the touch, "Have you seen yourself? It would've been a crime to stop for any reason."

Phineas chuckles wordlessly, continuing his palming. He kisses up Stranger's jaw, nipping at his earlobe, "How do you want it, Stranger?"

They feel a blush coat their skin, "Could it be anything?" Am I really going to ask for that?

He leans back, fingering the beads around their neck, "After what you did, you could tie me to the bedpost and have at it if you wanted."

While the thought was definitely erotic and pleasantly floats through their body, they had other ideas, "I have a more vanilla taste in mind."

"What can I do for you?" He sounds excited, borderline impatient.

Stranger pulls back, "Promise not to make fun of me?"

"Of course not," Phineas lays a kiss to the bottom of their chin.

Wordless, they climb off of Phineas, sitting back down on the floor. The spread their legs, and grab one of Phineas ankles, pulling his foot closer until it rests in their lap. Immediately, Phineas applies a little pressure to the trapped silhouette of the cock in their pants, grinning cheekily.

"This isn't so unconventional, Stranger," He says. He pushes against them, pulling out a moan, "We could've done this first."

"Oh, I'm a mess after sex," Stranger says, "I wouldn't have been able to focus so well on you. Besides, I'm close enough already. I wasn't completely left out," They kiss his knee, stroking up his calve.

"And this is all you're looking for? This is what you want?"

"Yes."

Phineas hums, pressing forward. Stranger moans, leans back on the floor. They spread open their shirt, grabbing at the beads around their neck. Their eyes flutter at a particularly light touch, and dart to Phineas. He's leaning forward, leaning his cheek into his hand.

"Enjoying the view?" They ask him.

"Very," He keeps changing his pace, from hard presses, to light strokes, interchanging.

And it drives Stranger wild. They meet each of Phineas' movements with soft rolls of their hips. Their eyes keep flicking to the man above them, how he stares. His eyelids droop, but his eyes shine with burning interest that sets Stranger alight, like a flame. It's not too long before their gut coils. They grab Phineas' ankle with one hand, back arching.

"Oh, Phineas," They bite their lip, throwing their head back, "Phineas."

He lets out a breathy sigh, "Almost?"

Stranger nods, rocking upwards, Fuck. Their grip tightens on his ankle. They shudder, grinding quickly as they chase their peak. They try to keep their focus on Phineas, but it keeps being pushed away in favor of a hazy vignette that frames their mind.

"Fuck," They moan out, "Oh, fuck," Their mouth falls open, "Phineas," Their mind blanks out, white expanse forcing their eyes shut, pleasure rolling through their body as they draw their knees up. Their blunt nails dig into the fabric of Phineas' sock, hips stuttering, meeting each warm wave that passes through them. As the waves subside, their grip slackens off from Phineas' ankle, mind lost in a fog. They throw an arm over their eyes, breathing heavily. The moment stretches on, but passes, allowing Stranger to catch their breath. They pull their arm away from their eyes, blinking, then focusing on Phineas. He's staring at them with what they can only describe as delight. They grin.

"How do I look?"

"Wonderful," He says.

The grin widens into a smile. They sit up, pushing their hair out of their face. They glance down at their pants, seeing a wet spot through the fabric.

"So you've got a bit of a fetish, have you?" Phineas teases.

Stranger scoffs, "Barely a fetish. I just enjoy being clothed," They look up to see Phineas reaching a hand out, and they take it, hauling themselves off the ground and sitting next to Phineas in the bunk. They smooth their hands over his hips, kissing his collar. He smells like sweat, and they can't help but lick salt off his skin.

"Hoping for another round?" Phineas asks.

"No, actually," They say, "I'd rather just sleep."

There's a long pause from Phineas, then he fingers the buttons of their shirt, "You should change."

"I should. Great idea," They stand, shed their pants and shirt, leaving themselves naked in Phineas' presence. They glance down at themselves, with their flat chest and lean body. They have a number of new scars, light on their dark skin. They look at him, shrug, "Changed."

Phineas doesn't respond, simply pulling in Stranger by their hips. They lay down with him, bodies parallel. They trail their fingers down his ribs. Too thin. Phineas takes a moment to explore them, too, feeling over their hips and lean stomach.

"So..." Phineas says.

"So," Stranger says back to him.

Neither speak, each waiting for the other to fill the silence. It stretches on, and on, and on, the two staring at each other. Feeling it ridiculous, and silly, Stranger can't help the grin that stretches on their lips. Phineas' cheeks puff, and he lets out a huff of laughter, rubbing his face.

"I'm sorry," He says.

"You're fine," Stranger says, "Just fine," Deciding to be the braver, they shuffle closer, letting the two's legs tangle together, "This was a lovely night, Phineas," They say, as if dropping Phineas off at his home after a night out to a bar. They're overtaken by a sudden longing to take the man out on such a night. They wonder if he would ever say yes.

The grin Phineas shows off makes their heart flutter, "I think I got the better end of it," He says.

"There'll be a lot more where that came from, you like it so much."

Phineas smiles wordlessly. He cups their chin, and kisses them, slow and unhurried.

Stranger, for the first time in a long, long time, feels utterly at ease. They aren't thinking about their crew, or their next job, or the Board, or the thousands of colonists on the Hope, or anything else about Halcyon. They're thinking about Phineas Welles, with his thinning hair and his soft body, the smell of his skin and the heaviness in his voice. They haven't held someone like this in so long, and feel their heart thrumming in their chest.

While they wish it was just loneliness that tugged at them, they can't deny how they feel. They were attracted to Phineas in more ways than just physically. They really felt a connection with him. It lit them up, like fireworks.

And they make a decision. It definitely could blow up in their face, but it was choice they wanted to make. They certainly weren't getting any younger, and neither was Phineas. And with everything going on with the Board, well, it couldn't hurt to at least try. They, honestly, weren't even looking for something so serious as marriage and a husband, either. Just someone they can rely on, a boyfriend, or at the very least, a consistent partner. If it snowballed further, that was perfectly fine with them, but that wasn't their goal.

All they had to do was be honest with him.

When Phineas breaks the kiss, his head leaning down into his pillow, grinning, Stranger speaks.

"When you rescued me from the Hope," They say, slowly and carefully, trying to hear their own voice over the drum of their heartbeat, "You had to see my file when you were trying to free the other colonists, right?"

Phineas' eyebrows raise. The grin falls. He looks very surprised to be asked that, "Some of it," He says.

"What did it say?"

He looks off, as if reading from a script, "Name, age and date of birth. It said you were college educated, an English major, but I was interrupted before I could read more."

"Do you want to know why I left Earth?"

Phineas stares for a long moment. It was as if he had been asked if he wanted to know the meaning of life, he looks so intensely. He then nods silently.

Stranger closes their eyes, feeling for Phineas' hands. They find them, smoothing their thumbs over his wrists, "Two years before the Hope departed, I was married. I had a loving husband that I was with for over twenty years," And all of it, wasted, "He was a lawyer at a large firm in our city, and I was a school teacher for middle school children, and on the side, the school fencing coach."

There's silence in response, so Stranger continues.

"I had a comfortable life. I didn't have much family, but I had a lot of friends. I thought I was well liked. Then this one day, the center down the block where my students would practice was being fumigated for bugs, so I cancelled, and went straight home," Their heart clenches, like a fist, "I came home, and my husband was with the prettiest young woman I had ever seen. His secretary at the firm," They huff, grinning, but there's no humor, only hurt, "His piece on the side."

Phineas still doesn't say anything.

They continue, "The woman got dressed as fast as she could, and left, leaving just me and my husband," They inhale slowly, releasing the anger and hurt they still felt through their breaths, "We talked, well, yelled. I learned that she was just one woman in a long string of lovers. Every secretary he'd ever had at that firm was a piece on the side, at some point. He'd gone through dozens of them."

The wrists they were holding pull away, fingers stretching over their chest.

"I couldn't believe it. I ripped my ring off, threw it at him, and moved out that week. In the meantime, I stayed with a friend, and everyone I knew was calling me, asking me if I was alright. When I told them what my husband did they seemed....unsurprised. I finally cornered someone with a bit of gusto to them, and it turns out....Everyone else knew about my husband's affairs except me. And nobody told me. Nobody had the guts to tell me."

"To make a long story short, I fell apart. I couldn't focus on my job, on my coaching. I was distracted, depressed, I barely slept during the night, barely ate a meal. I was a mess. For two straight years, I was consumed by my own sadness, feeling sorry for myself. So when I heard about the departure of the Hope, I knew I had to get off that planet. It felt like everything around me was a reminder of him, of being betrayed by everyone around me. I needed a fresh start, where nobody knew me."

They open their eyes, focusing on Phineas' chest, a little embarrassed by their speech of the heart, "And then I wake up here. In Halcyon, sixty years late. What's a better fresh start than a completely separate decade?" They stroke through the hair on his chest, "And I think my fresh start, starts with you."

Underneath their fingers, they can feel Phineas' heart thunder, like the gallop of a horse. They wait for an answer. Five seconds, ten, twenty, and the longer it goes on, the more nervous Stranger feels. They look up, into his face, and see the pitted look of worry on him.

"I'm...I'm so sorry to hear that happened to you," Phineas says, "And I wish it had never happened," He pauses, taking even breaths, then continues, "I....I can't, Stranger," He says it, and a look of pain overtakes him.

Stranger feels their heart sink, but they had expected their hopes to be dashed. They open their mouth to speak their understandings, but Phineas cuts them off before they can voice them.

"You...Deserve more than me. More than what I can give you."

Taken aback, Stranger squints, "What do you think I'm asking for?"

"Normal life, domesticity...." Phineas trails off.

"Oh, Phineas, I wasn't asking for you for a normal life," They say slowly, "I wasn't even asking for solid commitment. I should've started off with that, actually. What I'm trying to say," They cup his chin,, "Is that I'm looking for a start where I'm free. Where I can be anyone I wish to be. I abandoned my name, my old life. Now, I'm the captain of a fine ship, with a fine crew. I'm a hero to some, a villain to others. I'm a mercenary. I'm a problem solver. And now, I wish to be your lover, Phineas, relationship or not."

Phineas is locked in a deadly silence. Stranger meets his eye, watching his pupils dilate, fixed on them. That worried look melts into....confusion. And that confusion seeps into Stranger, as well. Were they not being clear enough about their intentions?

"Maybe I worded it strangely," They say, "I - "

"I understand you perfectly," Phineas says in a tone just past a whisper, "Crystal clear."

Oh, They realize, I was too forward. They start to speak again, but fingers hold the sides of their face, and Phineas pulls them forward into a deep kiss. He pours himself into it, pressing his body closer until their chests were flushed, like he was hoping for their bodies to melt together.

"You gorgeous, gorgeous individual," He mutters between their bruised lips.

Stranger grins through it all, "I like you, Phineas, I always have," Their heart flutters when Phineas holds their hand, squeezes it. Phineas was an intelligent, articulate man, yes, but his actions were leagues louder than any words he could speak.

They peel back from the kissing, shimmying down further onto the bed to lay their head into his chest. Phineas' lean arms wrap around them. He kisses the top of Stranger's head, burying his nose into their hair.

Sleep comes to Stranger in the form of a steady heartbeat.


End file.
